Christopher has been poisoning him with paralytics for six weeks to take the transport fleet for himself.”

“Why are you bringing this to me now?” he asked.

“Because Christopher is going to file a conservatorship petition on Monday,” I said.

“Unless Theodore’s father signs this paper right now to establish the bloodline.”

Brandon looked down at Theodore, who was reaching his small hand toward the shiny metal snaps on my winter coat.

“I have no money to help you, Nora.

I make twelve dollars an hour washing restaurant pans.”